The before time chronicles
by Dirk Gibson2000
Summary: Where's the clocks?


Face it, sitting and staring is boring. So let's stir up a little excitement around here!

"I've got an idea!" Marco said. "Let's travel back in time!"

"Yeah, with what?" Jake asked Marco.

\OH DARN, DON'T GO BACK TO SITTING AND STARING. WATCH DOUG,\ the almighty fanfic writer said. \OOPS, I MEAN, USE THIS OLDE TIMEE MATRIXE TO GO BACK IN TIME. BEWARE, IT HAS BEEN KNOWN TO OVERSHOOT YOUR GOAL.\

"Cool!" Marco said. "Let's do it!"

Said Rachel.

\HAH. TRICKED YOU THERE, READER, DIDN'T I? \ The fanfiction author said.

Then he added \THAT OLDE TIMEE MATRIXE DOESN'T WORK. AFTER YOU'VE OWNED IT FOR 52 SECONDS, IT WILL TRY 'N' TAKE YOU BACK 24 HOURS.\

Suddenly, Everything was olde!

\NOW, PUT IN A THEME SONGE.\

The Before-Time Chronicles #1: Where's the clocks?

(Author's note: This story is not serious, or dark (and no romance).)

\SEE? IT OVERSHOT. I HAVE GOTTA GET A NEW ONE. AND, I DON'T THINK THOSE GUIES LIKE YOU?\

"Guies?" Marco questioned. "Isn't that an incorrect spelling?"

\SHUT UP. IT'S THE PLURAL FORM OF "GUY". \

"It is?"

\ YES. \

"It is?"

\IF YOU DON'T STOP REPEATING ME, I WILL YOUSE MY ALLMITE POWERS AGAINST YOU!\

"You will?"

Suddenly, Marco disappeared from the story and was replaced by his twin brother, Maroc. But unfortunately, Maroc is a clone of Marco.

"AHH! Those people are wearing clothes from the '90's! Thou didn't use Tony's Olde Matrixe, did thou? One says it doesn't work, the crappy new thing."

\STOP TALKING IN YE OLDE ENGLISH, YOU IDIOTS,\ the fanfic author remarked.

"Okay, okay. You have one sixth of an egg timer to decide whether you want to come to Ye Olde Shoppe," Doug said.

"How long is an egg timer?" Tobias questioned.

"An egg timer is one egg timer long, dummy," Doug replied.

"What? Oh, yeah, this is the Before-Time Chronicles, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Y/N?"

"N."

What the heck are they talking about? Find out, when The Before-Time Chronicles continues, on Mickelodeon.

\REMEMBER, FOLKS, WE'LL BE BACK. AFTER THESE MESSAGES FROM OUR SPONSORS.\

"Hey, dudes, watch Hey Farnold! every Weekendnight at 7.00, only on Mickelodoen. And remember, get two mops to make Felga's hair," a freaky person screamed.

"We're the Anti-Luv guys. Anti-Luv!!" Eighteen people yelled at their dad.

"If you wanna be rich, phone 3362883662 NOW!" A mobile phone screamed in a travel agent's ear.

"You're watching The BTC, on Mick," A stupid loser said.

\BACK TO THE SHOW, DUDES. COWABUNGA.\

"What was that?" Rachel asked.

\IT WAS AN AD BREAK. BY LAW THERE HAS TO BE ONE EVERY 10 MINUTES. NOW, BACK TO THE BOOK.\

The Animorphs were trapped in the 70's, with no possible chance of escape. Except one.

"I've got an idea," Cassie screamed in Mr. Lowce's ear. "Let's get the allmite author to remove us from this!"

\FAT CHANCE. IF I LET YOU BACK INTO THE 90'S, THIS FANFIC WOULD BE RUINED. BESIDES, THIS IS YOUR DESTINY. SO HA. CALL THE ELLIMIST, OR SOME OTHER BLUE FREAK. LISTEN TO MY WISE WORDS.\

"'Wise words'?" Rachel said. "Yeah, that's really wise."

My sarcasm dectector says "Your'e being sarcatic!!" Forlay said.

(Author's note: look in #8, Forlay is Ax's mom, not the sappy fanfic writer, Forlay.)

\GET OUTTA MY F*CKING STORY OR YOU'LL PAY YOUR F*CKING ARSE OFF,\ the author said.

Okey-Dokey then, Author Guy, Forlay answered.

"What the hell is the date anyway?" Jake asked the allmighty author.

\IT'S 1970, DAMNIT. NOW, BACK TO THE STORY, FOLKS.\

Ye Olde Shoppe was a mess. An atristic mess, actually. It was full of people with a nose where their eye should be and an eye instead of a mouth. And there were these guys with cameras taking pictures of them.

"So that's how they make those crappy Picasso pictures," Tobias said.

"Come into this room," Doug said, pointing into a cupboard.

After everyone had gone into the cupboard, Doug said, "Oops. That's the one that takes you into a random fanfiction."

*Gasp* What fanfiction will it be? Watch out, when the Before-Time Chronicles returns, on Mick.

"You've seen the 1970s, but what else does the allmite fanfic author have in store for us? Will Marco ever get a girlfriend? And what will it be like in 1985? Find out, next week on The Before Time Chronicles. And, in 2 weeks, watch the Animorphs, LIVE, BABY! LIVE! yep, right now. Only on Mickelodeon," a mobile phone screamed.

You're watching TBTC, on Mick.

\WE'RE BAAAAACK!\

Tobias wailed.

Jake groaned.

Maroc/Marco gasped.

Cassie scremed.

Rachel yelled.

Ax laughed.

\WHAT? DO YOU DARE DECEIVE ME, AX? BYE-BYE.\ The author waved goodbye to Ax, and he was replaced by the clone Xa.

The author continued writing furiously, unaware of the sort of horror that was going on.

"Oh no! We've been sucked into a sappy fanfiction!" Tobias wailed.

But the author didn't hear this, because he was listening to some really loud music to recover from his writer's block.

\GET THIS BLOODY BLOCK OUT OF MY WAY!\ he yelled. \HEY, WAIT, IT'S A TV! AND HEY ARNOLD!'S ON! YAY!!!\

"We're doomed!!!!!!!!!!" Cassie screamed. "No-one's gonna save us from this sappy fanfiction!!!"

"Sappy fanfiction? Who is it? Jake & Cassie or Tobias & Rachel?" Maroc said.

\AT LEAST I'VE GOT MY PEICE OF PAPER,\ the author said. \NOW I'LL CROSS IT OUT.\

"I love you," said

\PHEW. THAT WAS A CLOSE ONE.\

Tobias loves R

Who exactly is writing these? Me? Probably. Find out for real, when The Before-Time Chronicles returns, on Mick.

"Hey, dudes. Watch Dogcat to see a cat with a dog's head, instead of a leg (3rd). Weekdays, 3.00, Mickelodeon," A guy with yellow legs said.

"Want action? Want adventure? Want excitement?" a mysterious voice over with a mysterious-sounding voice said. "Well, you can't have everything. But Mickelodeon is giving you the next best thing. _The UnSPECtacuLARS_!! (Author's note: The capital letter sylabbles are emphazied really much.) Watch em, every day at 10.00 pm. WATCH IT OR ELSE!"

"She loves him. She loves him not. She loves him. She loves him not. She loves him. She loves him not. She loves him. She loves him not. She loves him. She loves him not. She loves him. She loves him not. She loves him. She loves him not. She loves him. She loves him not. She loves him. She loves him not. She loves him. She loves him not. Yep, that's it. She loves him not. Watch the Guess Cang, every night at 5.16am," The Gromble said.

You're watching Hey Farnold! on Mick.

\OOPS. SLIGHT ERROR THERE.\

The Animorphs were stuck. Well, not quite stuck. Of course, they could keep stepping into the cupboard and hoping that the fanfiction chosen would be The Before-Time Chronicles #1. Or maybe, The Author Could Write Them In???

\FAT CHANCE. ACTUALLY, THE CHANCE IS AS FAT AS YOU.\

You know, _Mr. Author_, if you don't interfere, you will be classed as a non-interfering person. And you know who's in that box, don't you?

\AAAAAAHHH! NO! NOT THE ELLIMIST! THAT NONG COULDN'T TELL HIS ARSE FROM A HOLE HE DUG IN THE GROUND YESTERDAY!\

And, wouldya know it, the Animorphs were in the barn 53.42746551674388553667 seconds exactly.

\OH WELL. HERE ARE THE CREDITS.\

Tobias:

Tobias

Rachel:

Rachel

Jake:

Jake:

Marco:

Boom Froom

Marco

Doug:

Poley Froom

\NO! STOP!\

Suddenly and abruptly, the theme song/credits dissapeared from the sort-of- screen thing.

"What the heck did you do that for?" Cassie asked. "It was about to say Andy Scott!"

\LET'S SEE ABOUT THAT,\ the author said, and put the credits back on.

Lighting:

Andy Scott

\WHAT KIND OF A NAME IS LIGHTING ANYWAY?\ the author muttered.

Just then, something bad happened to Tobias. So the author turned to a form where he speaks with speech marks, no captals.

"You're cursed with the Fangor family curse," the author. "Wow. What humble speech. Only capital letters at the beginning of some words."

"My last name isn't Fangor," Tobias pointed out.

"Ah, but it is now. I am the almighty fan-fiction author. You have whatever last name I give you! UNDERSTAND? Now, I'll tell you more.

"Your great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather, who, if I remember correctly, was called Toby Fangor, died before he got to be 200. That's where it started. Then, it progessively got worse through fifteen generations. 1200 years. Long time, eh?

"Well, you're lucky. Your desendants will probably get it worse. but, after 1320 years, curses diappear. And after you, it's 1320 years. I guess the guy who runs all the curses gets sick of a curse in 1320 years. Or maybe he can't think of any more bad things to happen. Too bad for you.

"I will remove this curse for free, after the cost of $300.00, or 30 easy payments of $10.

"If this isn't a deal, I will give you the money. Oh, and here's the new script for episode B.0.95.4."

Tobias grabbed the paper out of the author's hand, and looked at it.

Here is what it said:

Animorphs, Episode B.0.95.4, Scene 8.9

Time: 1600 hours, 12 minutes, 48 seconds. (4:12pm)

Place: A deserted alleway.

[Tobias is busy reading his B Erricson mobile phone deal.]

Tobias: To B or not to B?

(Author's note: B is a mobile phone company who print nothing in font size 16 or less.)

Rachel: Come over here, Tobias darling!

Tobias (sounding annoyed): Rachel, I'm trying to read the small print on my mobile phone deal.

Rachel: But Tobias darling, with B there's no small print!

Tobias: Oh yes. Sorry, I completely forgot.

[Tobias and Rachel start kissing.]

Tobias shuddered. "Who wrote that?"

\UM.. I THINK IT WAS HJYM. YOU KNOW, THAT GUY ON THE INTERNET.\

"Get another version, Author, or your arse is mine."

\OKAY, OKAY, WHATEVER.\

Animorphs, B.0.95.4, Scene 8.9

Time: 6am

Place: Tobias's house

[Tobias is busy reading his B Erricson mobile phone deal.]

Rachel: Tobias, --

Tobias: Shut your f*cking face, Rachel.

Time is running out, author. Put them back in the other time slot. The 70s.

\GOOD IDEA, NARRATOR.\

You know what happened next...

You're watching The Before Time Chronicles, on the channel with no script, Mickelodeon.

"Want to watch something bad? Then Listen here.

"'This is a TV show about some idiots who read almanacs. They are total losers, by the way, and only people like them watch this. Okay. These people, called Arther, Bugs Bunny, and that a******e Michael from Escape from Jupiter.' catch it every Saturday at 4.30 PM, on Mick," Harry Oop said.

"Tommy. Crazed violent nut that would do anything.

"Chuckie. Idiot guy with way too many morals.

"Phil & Lil. Two way weird kids who are always arguing. They love disgusting things. Weird.

"Angelica. This kid is all Miss Perfect to her parents, but she's always calling TP, CF, PD and LD "You dumb babys." Total minder.

"Catch Rugrats and the rest of the gang, at 6.49pm every Sunday morning. On Mickelodeon, Channel 114."

(Author's note: Like dat? I wrote it ages ago, and found it lying around on my computer, so I decided to use it. Cool, huh? 'Kay, I'll shut up now.)

The BTC returns. On Mick®.

"That author is an idiot. CHARGE!!" Tobias yelled.

The Animorphs charged, and hit the author in the butt, and he got hurt.

\DON'T JUST STAND THERE AND BABBLE! HELP ME!\

Sorry. Narration rule #72889. No interference by narrators allowed. I'm just here to tell the story. Mmmm, cake!

\THE CAKE'S IN THE STORY.\

D'oh! Hey, no it isn't. It's just sitting there, doing nothing.

\YOU WANNA BET?\

"Hi," the cake said. "Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo."

\_WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU STUPID CAKE_?\

"I'm singing the Doug theme song."

\WELL, YOU'RE _SUPPOSED_ TO BE SAVING ME!\

"Cakes can't save people. Just sing."

Suddenly the cake sprouted legs.

\SAVE ME!!\

"Why?"

\BECAUSE WITHOUT THE AUTHOR, THIS STORY WILL SUDDENLY AND ABRUPTLY END!\

"So?" the cake asked.

\YOU WILL CEASE TO EXIST.\

"NOO!! I'll save you, author!"

I definitely did see what happened, but I can't remember exactly what happened. I'll tell you as soon as I remember.

Doug arrived.

"Ah, thee's back. One thought thee'd never get out of that Tobias & Rachel fanfiction. Now thee'll go to Ye Old Shoppe again, and this time one will lead thee into ye right door."

"Um.. What _is _in the old shop?" Jake questioned Doug.

"Ye Olde Shoppe," Doug corrected him. "Well, Ye Olde Shoppe is working on something that will show how many egg timers have run out since the beginning of the day. We have also extended egg timers by 2-thirds. At the end of each egg timer, there is the next number."

"Thank god whoever invented time," Jake muttered.

\SORRY, JAKE. THE SPELLING OF "GOD" WAS INCORRECT. PLEASE USE A CAPITAL LETTER NEXT WEEK,\ the almighty fanfiction author said. \ERM, I MEAN, NEXT TIME.\

Come on, author, think of something.

\YOU THINK UP SOMETHING YOURSELF, NARRATOR,\ the author said.

I'm just the narrator. If you're the author, it's your responsibility.

\IS THIS 3RD PERSON?\

No. It's 12th person. If it was 3rd person, it would be Tobias.

\OH YEAH. NOW, LET'S SEE... ELFANGOR 7TH ALDREA 8TH DAK HAMEE 9TH ESPLIN SOMETHING 10TH ME 11TH. YEP. YOU'RE 12TH. 12 IS THE UNLUCKY NUMBER.\

No it's not. 13 is.

\IT'S TWELVE, DAMNIT.\

Where did you get that theory throm? Pulled it out of your butt, did you?

\SINCE I AM THE ALMITE AUTHOR, I WILL GO BACK TO 1213. _NOW_ LET'S SEE WHICH IS UNLUCKY.\

"Where the heck are we?" Tobias asked.

About 1213.

"_1213_?! It was bad enough in 1970. Besides, why are we here?"

\WE'RE HERE TO SEE WHETHER 12 IS UNLUCKY, OR 13.\

"It's thirteen. Duh."

\SO. TAKING THE NARRATOR'S SIDE, ARE YOU? DAMN. EYERYONE DOES THAT. WELL, THIS WILL BE ANOTHER THING TO ADD TO THE FANGOR FAMILY CURSE --\

We're _supposed_ to be seeing which number is unlucky.

\TWELVE.\

We're going to prove it.

\OH, YEAH. ISN'T THAT FUNNY, I TOTALLY FORGOT.\

"How exactly are you going to prove it?" Tobias asked.

\WE'RE GOING TO SEE WHETHER THE 12 OR THE 13 IS UNLUCKY.\

"Shouldn't you be going to 1200 and then 1300 instead of both the numbers together?"

\WHO ASKED YOU, ANYWAY?\ the author said. \IT WOULD SPOIL OUR FUN, YOU KNOW. AND BESIDES, YOU GET THE DAY OFF SCHOOL.\

He has a point, you know.

\YES, I DO KNOW. A BAD POINT.\

How did this thing start, anyway? I've forgotten.

\IT WAS A BASKETBALL GAME.\

No, it was South Park.

\BASKETBALL GAME.\

South Park.

\BASKETBALL GAME.\

South Park.

\BASKETBALL --\

^Would you want to get _on_ with it, please?^ the publisher said.

(Author's Note: If you think this story is getting too confusing, don't worry. The Publisher is only allowed to say three different things in every fanfic.)

\IT WAS HIS FAULT.\

He started it!

\HE DID IT!\

Did not!

^I do not _care _who started it! Just _get on with the story_!^

\YES, SIR.\

Okay-Dookie.

^Good. See you in the next fic, reader!^ the publisher said.

Two people were walking down the street.

"It is going to be unlucky this year, Mikey," the first person said.

"Yes. 1213. Has thirteen in it, it does. Unlucky sign," Mikey said.

"Yes," the other one said.

See? Told you. I am right, as always.

\OH, WELL. WIN SOME, LOSE MORE THAN YOU WIN.\

Now, back to the story. Where were you? Ah, yes.

"One'll show thou Ye Olde Shoppe. Follow one," Doug said.

"Follow one _what_?" Rachel asked, confused (as usual -Ed.).

\I FORGOT TO FLICK THE GREEN SLIME SWITCH AND BEAM IT TO YOUR SCREENS, DIDN'T I? IN OTHER WORDS, THAT ANNOYING IDIOT IS TALKING RUBBISH, EERM, OLDE ENGLISHE AGAIN. NOW, TO FLIK DA SWITCH! THERE,\ the almighty fanfiction author exclaimed in a high-pitched voice (very).

"I'll show you Ye Olde Shoppe. Follow me," Doug said.

In Ye Olde Shoppe, there were exactly 2500 doors. You wouldn't guess that the SIA* door was right at the beginning, would you?

(* - used without permission from Nickelodeon)

Okay, okay. I'll tell you the big secret.there are 2 doors. Door 1: SIA. Door 2: Bathroom. The rest of the doors were in the SIA room.

\IT'S TIME. FOR AN AD BREAK.\

"It's birthday time!" A Nemming yelled. "Kernel Popcorn Pop is one year old today. Eugh! If you something yummy that's had a year birthday, send it to POO Box 38784, Sydney."

"Ickus, Crumbs, and Eubleena are in HAHAHA Fake Monsters. Every morning at 8:39pm. Only on Mick, Channel 114..." a monster with rabbit ears excaimed VERY LOUDLY.

"Mick. The Before Time Chronicles. We're back," a 2 year old groaned.

"Why do we keep disappeared?" Rachel said.

\AD BREAKS. DUH. WE DIDN'T HAVE ONE FOR 22 MINUTES BACK THEN. I MADE A MISTAKE THAT COULD HAVE COST ME MY LIFE.\

A bell dinged.

"S-I-A," someone sang. "Secret Intelligence Agency."

"Here is the... um, we haven't thought up a name, but Janet Youl here had a good idea. See, the pointy things are called clos, and the numbers up to twelve are called dozen. So we're going to call it a Clodozen! Cool. Definitely," Doug said.

"Actually, up to 12 is ock," Marco said quickly.

"Ock, ay? Well then, in that case, it will be a Clook!" Doug shouted. "Yeah! Behold, a clook!"

"Clock," Marco corrected.

"Clock? CLOCK?! You dare, um, ah, RESIST ME? No, that doesn't sound write. You dare, um... CHANGE MY IDEAS? Nope, doesn't sound right. YOU DARE MAKE ME CALL IT A _CLOCK_?! Perfect," Doug said.

"Clock, man," Tobias said for some onknown reason, but which was probably because he knew about the great god Cool Dude.

"Who said that?" Doug asked. His head snapped around. He gasped. "It's the great god Cool Dude! I bow down to you, Cool Dude! Sorry I ever doubted that it wasn't supposed to be a clock!"

"'Cool Dude'?" Marco whined.

\STOP WHINING ALREADY, MARCO,\ the author said. \TOBIAS IS DA COOL DUDE. NOT YOU.\

"DAMN YOU!! I wanna be the great god Cool Dude!" Marco whined.

\SHUT UP AND STOP WHINING,\ the author said. \GARFIELD RULES, SUCKERS! GARFIELD RULES, SUCKERS!! GARFIELD IS TAKING OVER THE WORLD! A-HAHAHAHAHA!\

Watch this, because The Before-Time Chronicles will be back, on Mick.

"Buy You brighten my day pencils! They're muti-colored and can induce headaches and vomiting! YAY!!" a weird-sounding voice-over said.

"Next, on Mickelodeon. HAHAHA Fake Monsters with Ickus, Crumbs and Eubleena. Only on Mickelodeon.

"And then, The Ecaf, on Mick Jr," Snoopy screamed in Woodstock's ears.

"Meet The Wild Thornbaddies.

"There's Nigel Thronbaddie, mad of action, and his long suffering wife, Marianne.

"Catch em on Mick. 6.29 am.

The Before-Time Chronicles is back on Mick.

"Now, let's see," Doug muttered to his crew of sales assistants. "The most obvious place to distribute the clooks --"

"Hey, man," Tobias cut in, speaking in a strong american accent, leaning against a wall, and snapping his fingers as if he had rythym. "It's a _clock_. How many times do I have to tell ya?"

"Sorry, Cool Dude," Doug mumbled.

\HE DIDN'T MUMBLE IT.\

Well, it says he mumbled it right there, in black and white.

\IT DOES? WELL, IT WILL HAVE A GREAT BIG LINE GOING STRAIGHT THROUGH IT IN BLACK AND WHITE SOON.\

The author crossed it out.

"Sorry, Cool Dude," Doug mumbled.

"Sorry, Cool Dude," Doug yelled. "Then, we pretend we're these sweedish guys. they'll think that the Sweedish guys invented the clook... Erm, clock. That way the SIA will remain secret."

Eighty-six heads nodded in agreement.

\IT WAS EIGHTEEN.\

No, it wasn't.

\EIGHTEEN.\

Eighty-Six.

\LET'S SEE ABOUT THAT, NARRATOR. WHICH BUTTON IS REWIND? THERE'S , [], AND . AND ll.\

It's .

The author fell for the trick and pressed the button, which was really fast forward, instead of rewind which was what the author wanted.

\AAHH! IT'S GOING THE WRONG WAY!\

He pressed [].

\PHEW. THAT WAS A CLOSE ONE.\

Ha ha! I tricked you! You fell for it! Now the story has skipped 13.992774629 seconds! I win!

\D'OH!\

"Now, _Dougie_," Tobias said in a fake sweet voice, "_could you please tell us_ how we got plane tickets and on the plane and _half way_ to Sweeden in _13.992774629 seconds_?!"

"We're flying QAAL," Doug explained. "QAAL stands for Quick Australian Air Lines. See? And they get you there in 24.16882774662 seconds."

"WE'RE THERE!" a young Grandpa said. "I worked that out, and I'm ninty --"

Then he made dying sounds and died. Lucky he had no family.

"QAAL doesn't exist," Tobias pointed out.

"Oh, my, God," Doug said slowly. "QAAL doesn't exist! Everybody off, or we'll cease to exist too! AAAHHHHH!!"

Everyone ran off the plane, except the pilot, who was enjoying a cup of coffee dunked in a donut.

\THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE.\

Don't look at me. I'm just the lowly narrator. I'm just here to tell the story. Besides, everything else in this fanfiction is impo --

\SHUT UP! IF YOU THINK IT'S SOOO IMPOSSIBLE, YOU CROSS IT OUT YOURSELF.\

Narrator rule #314. Narrators cannot cross things out, unless they are sappy.

\WELL I'LL CROSS IT OUT ALL BY MYSELF, WITH NO HELP FROM ANY BLOODY NARRATOR, THEN.\

You are an idiot, Forlay observed.

\BYE FORLAY,\ the author said and removed Forlay from the story, replacing her with her clone, Forlya.

It'll be back, on Mick, after this.

"You're a normal person. And you turn into a cat sometimes. Watch MEOW, weeknights at 8.30am," a dog said while chasing a mouse.

A billboard said: "**_It_** is coming. Ten days remaining."

"Buy this. It's 13-centimetre television. Because of the small size, this remote control which comes with it will be totally useless. Whenever you watch a show, you will have to sit 3cm away from it to actually see what's going on, which is guaranteed to induce headaches and vomiting. In fact, we're so sure of it, if you haven't had a headache or vomited within one week of buying it, you will get a replacement, _plus_ a full refund. It's our 200% guarantee. And here's the best news: it's just $290.00, or 12 easy payments of $24.15 and an extra 20c payment. It's that easy! It's your key to getting 1-242 days off school! For more information, watch Easy Shopping for Crappy Items, on X Shopping Channel 135, at 8.30am at night, or just call 160055193 NOW!" a voice-over said


End file.
